


The Cursed Soul

by Anonymous



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Hunters, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Long-Haired Yuri Plisetsky, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Witch Hunters, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 13:21:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18316070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Yuri Plisetsky doesn’t know that he’s a witch. And not just any witch, but THE witch who can break the curse that has caused turmoil between witches and witch hunters.Otabek Altin is the leader of the Wing Slayer Hunters, who all swore they would never hunt witches and wanted to keep their souls. But when his sister is cused by a demon witch, he has no choice but to enlist Yuri in helping him, by any means necessary.Can Otabek ignore the curse while with Yuri? Or will he give in and lose his soul forever?





	The Cursed Soul

**Author's Note:**

> Hello YOI fandom! I was inspired to create this after reading a similar fic that another author did for the VLD fandom (who is now gone, for some reason! The story was amazing!). The story was based on the book "Blood Magic" by Jennifer Lyons, which is an amazing story that I read along with my mom.

* * *

**Saturday: Day One of the Death Mark**

* * *

The whispers were nothing new, but he couldn’t help but roll his eyes and let the slight sneer appear on his face.

Yuri Plisetsky held his head high as he followed behind his grandfather’s casket, the black metal shining in the daylight as the pallbearers left the funeral home to carry the casket to the cemetery located right next to the establishment. Being the funeral director for his grandfather helped Yuri focus on the task instead of wallowing in grief, the duties giving him satisfaction as he allowed others to celebrate Nikolai Plisetsky’s life. Yuri knew his grandfather had been respected and well-loved throughout the small community in Canada he grew up in, but that still didn’t stop the little whispers coming from the naysayers.

_“He was called the Russian Fairy in high school. Wonder if it was because of the way he acted or because he’s a little faggot that would spread his legs for guys any chance he got.”_

_“I heard his father was afraid of him, that’s why he killed himself in the end.”_

_“That’s true. Suicide by too much alcohol consumption, if I remember correctly…”_

_“Just shut up you two! Look what Yuri did for your daughter as she passed away. He was there comforting her during her final hours without complaint. She had been so happy that he had been there.”_

_“He found my keys when I couldn’t find them. I had looked everywhere for the damn things! And he knew exactly where they were. Don’t you find that a little odd?”_

_“There’s something fishy about that man…”_

Yuri stiffened as he listened in. Smoothing his black suit jacket over his pale lavender dress shirt, he focused on his grandfather’s coffin instead of the naysayers that he wanted to more than anything knock the living daylight’s out of them.

Jean-Jacques Leroy’s arm wound around his shoulders, the man pulling Yuri close to him. The blonde looked up at the man he considered one of his best friends. The man towered over him at over six feet three inches tall, the man a specialist in many things thanks to his years in the Special Forces that he had went through after high school. He was a very well-built man. His black hair was styled in an undercut and cut nicely to fit the shape of his face. The man’s jaw was tight and dark blue eyes antsy, the tell-tale sign that the man also wanted to hit someone. “Just ignore them, Princess,” he commented, chuckling at the sneer Yuri directed to him at the nickname he hadn’t dropped since they were in high school.

“Fuck off, asshole,” he commented but didn’t shrug the man’s shoulder off of him.

When the man had returned from the service, Yuri and his other best friend, Yuuri Katsuki, both noticed that man had changed from the bright and bubbly boy from high school. At first, he was grim and acted as if he didn’t care about his life, which concerned his friends and family to the point they almost had an intervention for the man. But after finding out about Nikolai, who was a good friend of his father and mother, he had decided to help Yuri with completing housework and anything else that he could find to do. If anyone ever tried to thank him, he usually scoffed and play indifferent to what he was doing.

They stopped at the grave. The base of the casket was surrounded by flower arrangements; fresh greenery and baby's breath was woven around the poles of the canopy under which the guests sat or stood. Yuri had been thankful the community had come together to help this part of the service. With as strong and willing to learn as he was, picking flowers for a funeral was not one of his strong suits.

Yuri cleared his throat, feeling the weight of his mother's last gift; a silver Celtic knot pendant of loops and swirls that spread out like wings at her throat, which Nikolai had given to Yuri when he had turned five. “I would like to thank you all for coming today. It’s thanks to everyone that my grandfather and I could live peacefully here after leaving our home in Russia for his medical treatment. My grandfather appreciated every single one of you and you helped bring him joy in his final days. On my grandfather’s final day, he asked me to relay that he wishes that you do not grieve for him but to celebrate him instead. Enjoy the time you have with your loved ones, because you never know just how long you have with them. He looked out over all the mourners, warmed to see so many that truly cared about Nikolai Plisetsky. “Once we do the final prayers, we will have a reception back inside. We would be pleased if you would join us.”

He took his seat, grateful that he didn't have to worry about the reception. Yuuri and his newest employee, Isabella Yang, were inside the mortuary right now setting up the sandwiches, salads, and cookies. Instead, he concentrated on the prayers and closing words that would send his grandfather to his final rest. For the last time, people streamed by the casket, cried, and hugged him, much to his reluctance. The day was nearly over.

“You’ve done well,” Reverend Alain Leroy, JJ’s father, said as he hugged the man.

Yuri rose from his seat and followed the man, so they were standing by his grandfather’s casket. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Mr. Leroy.” Alain had been a good friend to Nikolai, and they were often seen together along with his wife, Nathalie.

They both picked up on two stragglers’ chatter as they walked by. “Figured he wouldn’t cry for his grandfather. Stuck up little prick.”

Alain’s face tightened, then he shook his head in disgust. “Nikolai knew you loved him, Yuri. And I have worked with you on dozens of funerals in the past. You're a professional through and through. This is your final gift to your grandfather. You held on strong and gave a wonderful eulogy.”

“Thanks, Mr. Leroy. That helps me a lot.”

“Would you like to walk in together?”

He shook his head. “Actually, I want to stay here a little longer. I need a little more time with my grandfather.”

Alain nodded and when a pat on his shoulder left the man to head inside.

Yuri could breathe now that he was finally alone. He inhaled the scent of woods mixed with the scent of recently cut grass and freshly turned dirt. Alain was right, no matter what anyone though his grandfather would be proud of him. Yuri had been known for his temper, and it felt good that he was able to be civilized enough to not snap on the naysayers that he had know problem doing before.

Taking Yuri away from his father when he was only three, he loved the man no matter how odd Yuri had turned out. Nikolai had accepted all of Yuri’s little quirks and his love _never_ faltered.

Turning slightly, he swept his hand across the glossy surface of the casket. “I'm going to give the house to JJ, Grandpa. I've thought about this a lot. He needs something, an anchor. I know he’s struggled since coming home, so I think having a place of his own might do him so good, you know? I can't live there, not without you. But JJ…”

The warmth he felt vanished, replaced by a deep chill. He snapped his head up and caught sight of a young couple walking along one of the sidewalk pathways directly in front of him. Sweeping his eyes left, he saw three people: two men and a woman standing by a headstone.

_They’re all just normal visitors. Nothing creepy. Nope, nothing at all._

Dropping his gaze back to the casket, he continued, “Sorry about that, guess I’m just tired. As I was saying, JJ-”

Then he felt it again. This time he felt chills run up and down his back and the hair stood up on his arms and neck. He felt his heart race increase rapidly. Dropping his hand from the casket, he whirled around to look toward the canopy he stood under.

A man was suddenly there, standing by the chair she'd sat in earlier.

His heart swelled and banged against his rib cage. The man was extremely tall and wore a long, black suede coat. But something was off, his face was too soft, almost feminine, yet his build was huge. _Pull yourself together, he's probably just a late mourner here for Grandpa._ Taking a deep breath, he noticed a coppery smell then said, “You startled me. Are you here for my grandfather?” Perhaps he was an acquaintance of Nikolai’s that he hadn't met.

With a smile as he stared at him, the man replied, “Oh no, my dear Yuri. I’m here for _you_.”

His eyes were a vacant and familiar turquoise green. He broke into a cold sweat at the man’s words. A voice in his head screamed, _Run! Get the hell away from him!_

Yuri shivered once, then turned and ran. The black dress shoes that were a size to large slipped in the thick grass. He stopped, turned, and saw that the man was still standing there watching him, a nasty smirk on his full lips.

Fear washed up the back of his throat. He yanked off his shoes and looked back. The man was gone.

 _Vanished_.

_You have to keep running!_

An unknown fear pulsed somewhere deep inside of him. He ran, heading toward the mortuary as it was the closest thing to him. But it was still too far! At least another fifty yards away…

“ _Yuri_!”

It was JJ, running toward him from the left, Isabella at his side. Yuri turned and raced to him, his thighs burning at the strain of the workout. He couldn't get the metallic taste of fear out of his mouth.

JJ caught him in his arms, lifting him off the ground easily as if he weighed nothing and turning with the momentum. “What's wrong?” He set him down and whipped back around, keeping him at his back.

Tears burned behind his eyes at the gesture. He had always protected him, just as he did when they were in high school and he had been picked on by the bullies that taunted him because he was a foreigner in their hallways.

“Yuri, are you okay?” Isabella looked at her, her huge grey-blue eyes full of worry for the man.

Warm embarrassment began in the center of Yuri's chest and spread like a bad rash. What exactly had he panicked over? “Fuck. I think I might have just embarrassed myself.”

JJ did one more scan then turned to look down at him; both of his dark eyebrows raised over vivid blue eyes. “You looked fucking terrified. What happened?” he asked.

He shrugged, then leaned down to slide one of his shoes back onto his wet foot. “Some fucking creep just freaked me out, that’s all.”

“That's a switch. Usually it's you freaking people out.”

He rolled his eyes as he balanced against JJ, brushing a couple blades of grass from his foot, and slid on the other shoe. Then he stood and said, “He startled me. I didn't hear him walk up, he was just…there. I asked him if he was here for Grandpa, and he said ‘Oh no, my dear Yuri. I’m here for _you_.’” Now that he said it out loud, he realized the man might have meant that he was there to support him at his grandfather’s funeral.

Isabella jerked her head around to stare at Yuri. “What did he look like?”

The fear coming off Isabella prickled his skin and nearly made him step back. In high school, Isabella had been popular and sure of herself while Yuri had been awkward; always trying to figure out how to fit in. Something had changed Isabella. He tried to answer, “Black hair, really weird turquoise eyes, and his face was…well, it seemed almost delicate, like a woman’s.”

“Was he a small guy? Like smaller than you?” JJ asked.

“No, way bigger. Taller than you JJ. He was wearing a black suede coat that went to his knees and black slacks underneath.”

Isabella's gaze darted around the cemetery, then she reached out and put her icy cold hand on Yuri's arm. She opened her mouth, then grimaced before saying, “I need to tell you something. But I can't seem to remember exactly …” She snatched her hand from Yuri's arm and started rubbing her temples.

“Isabella, sweetie, you need to eat. You've been working since this morning,” JJ said.

That was true, Yuri silently agreeing. But he had felt the cold fear in Isabella's hand. After being gone from town for a few years, the woman had returned scared and troubled by something, but no one knew from what. But then again, Yuri himself had just raced across the cemetery grounds like something out of a horror movie was after him, so who was he to judge? “Let's all go inside. I'm acting like a nuthouse escapee and Isabella is forgetting things. We could all use some food, and we have guests waiting.”

JJ took Isabella’s arm. “I'll take a look around inside. If he's there, I'll find out why he did that to you. Maybe I’ll give the son of a bitch a good punch for good measure.”

Yuri looked up at him as he followed them on the free side of JJ. “Thanks.” It made him feel better that he took him seriously even when he felt like a fucking fool.

What had possessed him to run away?

* * *

It was close to midnight by the time Yuri arrived home to his little apartment. The only thing that had gotten her through the last few hours was the promise of a hot shower and a big bottle of vodka. He lived in a ground-floor unit overlooking a sunny courtyard with propane barbeques and benches shaded by a couple of large oak trees with sprawling limbs that bent and twisted like broken fingers. Tonight, it seemed dark and shadowy with too many hiding places.

His imagination was kicking into overdrive, it seemed.

He hurried to his front door, slid in his key, and unlocked it. Once inside, he closed the door, shoved home the dead bolt, and took a deep breath as he finally felt himself fully safe all evening. Feeling calmer, he put his hand on the back of his cheetah print couch and bent over to take off his dress shoes. As he stood up, he looked at the tapestry over the aged brick fireplace. It had hung there since he moved into the apartment, but tonight it looked…brighter.

It pictured a black and white Siberian Cat sitting on a silver box and looking down into a glassy-still lake with its blue eyes. Behind the cat, lavender-shadowed mountains rose up. The cat and the mountains cast odd reflections into the mirror-like lake. It was mesmerizing to stare at the picture and try to make out the images on the lake surface. Sometimes it looked almost like the threads of the canvas were moving with the water in the lake. Tonight, everything seemed clearer and more vibrant than he had ever seen it.

The tapestry was the only possession Yuri had of his biological mother’s. Nikolai had never spoken much about the adoption, but he had hung the tapestry in Yuri's bedroom while growing up. His dad had hated it, but his grandfather wouldn't let him touch it until he was older, afraid that the piece might have been ruined.

Why had his mother left it with Yuri?

He’d never really given it much thought; the tapestry had just always been there. But then Nikolai had dropped his last bombshell on Yuri before he died: He had signed Yuri up on an Internet birth parents search agency. He had told Yuri it was time to learn who he was and where he came from.

Should he follow up with searching for his birth parents? Was there really a point into finding the people that had abandoned him as a baby?

His grief for his grandfather was still too fresh to make any decisions. That would be a task for another day.

He went into his bedroom, took a shower to wash away the day's aches, and put on a pair of gray sweat pants and a black tank top with tiger stripes on his sides. Leaving his blonde hair wet and wound up in a bun, he went to the kitchen where he grabbed a bottle of vodka and fixed a plate of cheese and crackers. He carried them with his to check his email.

He had a few more condolence emails. When he was finished replying to them, he realized that his shoulders had relaxed, his headache had eased, and the murmuring voices in his head had quieted.

His computer dinged indicating he had a new email message. The subject line said, _Warning._ Without even thinking, he clicked it open. It read: _The hunters have found you! They will kill you!_

Startled, he set down the bottle. What the hell was this? The noise in his head grew into a thick buzz. Fear pounded in his chest. He told himself he was overreacting, just like he had when that man had shown up at the gravesite. He’s probably read the email wrong. He leaned in closer and read the message again.

_The hunters have found you! They will kill you!_

What hunters? Why would they look for him? Yuri looked up to see who had sent the message. His mouth went dry and uneasiness skittered up his spine. The wine turned his stomach queasy.

This didn't make any sense.

The email was from _himself._

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave ANY feedback! I'm acceptable to any type, even if it's criticism. If you don't, I won't know how I'm doing :( 
> 
> Until next time!


End file.
